Fruitful and Comfortable Exhortation in Death, Poem
COME LORD IESVS.
COme Christ our king, come we thee pray,
Without in any mair delay,
We lang to see thee on that daie
appeir in maiesty.
When all before thee sall compeir,
That live'd on earth, baith far and neir,
Or sall be fund remaining heir
when all deid, sall thee sie.
Send furth thy trumpetters to sound,
Our lands allarum, that may wound,
Thy haters harts, and sik confound:
As wald thee never know.
And gather hame, thine awin elect,
That na contagion theme infect,
Mak ioyfullie in all respect,
That day for theme to dawe
That man of sinne is manifest,
That nowe thy Kirk hes long opprest,
Wilt thou not haist to giuegive her rest,
From cruell violence.
Sall aye the proude blaspheme thy name,
And put thy Gospell vntounto shame,
Come Lord and render vntounto thame,
Eternall recompence.
And then when thou sall come in glore,
And thine Archangell thee before,
Thins awin Elect for to decore,
With everlasting ioye.
When thou our Bridegrome sall appeir,
Convoyed vvith thy friends sa deir,
And vvith these Virgins wise and cleir,
That ever sall enioy.
The prefence of thy shining face,
And drink the living streames of grace,
That flowis through that pleasand place,
Of heavenly Paradise.
Mak vsus our Spouse to be prepart,
Into the Lampis of our hart,
With that maist precious oyle insart,
Of Faith as Virgins wise.
Array vsus vvith that comely weid,
our vvedding Garment woonder guid,
Thy Iustice conqueist be thy bluid,
And merites every way.
That vve may meete thee gratious,
Our Bridegrome and our heavenly Spous,
And in thy Chalmer glorious,
With thee may rest for ay.
Where all kinde dainties deirly dight,
All pleasure ioy and seemely sight,
Thy countenance that schines sa bright,
As na toung can record.
Where thy Redeemd makes melodie,
Thy Martyrs ane sweit harmonie,
Where Angels sings continuallie,
To thee all praise O Lord.
Even so, Come Lord Iesus.